


The Amazing Tail of Brendon Boyd Urie

by RedOrchid



Category: Bandom
Genre: A Fluffy Tail Is the Best Bedmate, And Keep It A Secret From Your Bandmates, Community: no_tags, Except for Spencer, How To Take Care of Your Tail While on Tour, M/M, Tails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-11
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedOrchid/pseuds/RedOrchid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: <i>Brendon/Spencer, born with a tail</i>.</p><p>Written for no-tags 2011</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Amazing Tail of Brendon Boyd Urie

Brendon Boyd Urie is born on April 12, 1987. 8 pounds, 11 ounces and with a furry, four-inch tail that highly resembles that of a squirrel.

The last part is somewhat problematic.

As long as he’s in diapers, it’s a pretty easy thing to hide, even though Brendon’s tail hates being trapped in that way and Brendon throws almost hourly tantrums over it. His parents tell the neighbours that he’s got colic, and, after that, that his teeth are coming along. Since there are about a million acceptable excuses for a toddler to behave like a hellion, most people don’t even look twice at him hollering as his mom carries him down the aisle of the supermarket, patiently trying to explain, that _no, he can’t play with his tail in public. In fact, it’s not proper for him to play with it at all._

The people who happen to overhear find the whole thing adorable.

When Brendon is four, he gets a Wild Things suit for Christmas, with an opening where the tail should be. Brendon wants to wear it all the time, running around the neighbourhood with his tricycle, tail waving proudly behind him. It’s grown along with Brendon—instead of shrinking and falling off like a couple of doctors had said it would—and now reaches the top of his shoulder. It’s furry and soft, and Brendon’s mom often finds him curled up with it in his arms after she puts him to bed at night.

They see quite a few doctors in those first years of Brendon’s life, most of whom suggest surgery to remove the problem.

For some reason, they never get to that point.

***

“Dude, do you have to use _all_ the hot water?” Ryan yells from the other side of the bathroom door. They’re on their first tour, almost done with it even, and Brendon is taking the first shower he’s had in days. He’s allowed to primp a little.

He reaches for the shampoo and starts lathering his tail, which is enjoying its first time out and about since Brendon last had the privilege of some time to himself. He doesn’t dare sleeping with it out while they’re on the bus, because no one respects anyone else’s privacy like they should (to be fair, Brendon doesn’t either; he _loves_ jumping into someone’s bunk in the morning and attack them with cuddles, even though they do occasionally protest and try to throw pillows at his head). His tail needs some time to stretch, end of story. Ryan Princess Ross can just suck it up and wait for his turn.

He feels the bus come to a stop, and then there’s some general commotion outside as people start getting off. The bus goes quiet shortly after, and Brendon hums happily to himself, taking the time to actually blow-dry his hair and tail properly instead of just towelling himself off like he usually has to make do with.

Once he’s done, he puts on a fresh pair of boxers (backwards, since risking leaving the special pairs he has—with slits on both sides—around the bus where someone can find them isn’t worth the paranoia it causes) and straps his tail to one of his legs with some bandages. It’s mostly fur, so it flattens pretty well, and as long as Brendon keeps evading the super-tight jeans Ryan wants him to wear, everything’s just fine.

***

The last night of the tour, someone throws a party. Brendon’s still high on adrenaline from the show and feels great—in a mood to dance till he can’t stand up straight and hopefully eat a bag of Doritos while he’s at it.

The party is in full swing when they get there, an impromptu dance floor going strong in the middle of the room and drawing Brendon in like a magnet. He throws himself into the crowd, inching around people until he’s smack in the middle of it. He laughs and jumps around, burning off steam and carefully keeping himself from making eye-contact with anyone for more than a couple of seconds. A couple of girls still pick up an interest, dancing closer until they have Brendon caught between them, the girl behind him placing her hands suggestively on Brendon’s hips.

Brendon smiles and flirts with them, laughing it off when the other girl’s hands starts to wander, pulling away and miming that he’ll just get a drink and then come right back.

He escapes to a corner where a few of TAI’s techs are sitting around with beers, sharing a joint lazily between them. Jon Walker is among them, holding up his hand to Brendon and pulling him down to the floor. Brendon goes happily, squeezing himself in between Jon and a sound tech named Ivan, making grabby-hands at a bottle of water next to Jon’s knee and congratulating himself on getting away so smoothly.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to get laid. Quite the opposite—he’s eighteen and alive after all. It’s just... the first time he tried to kiss one of the pretty girls who tend to pop up out of nowhere like magic mushrooms at these things, he ended up pushed against a wall with the girl’s hand half-way down his pants before he could as much as realise what was happening.

Brent had to come to his rescue. Brendon was embarrassed for weeks afterwards.

He envies Ryan and they guys in the other bands who have been around long enough to know exactly what to say and what to do to get whatever and whoever they want. At least Spencer and Brent are in the same place as him. Not the having-a-secret-tail place, of course, but the not-hooking-up one. Brendon gets why Brent doesn’t, having a girlfriend at home, but Spencer’s a bit of a mystery.

Right as he thinks it, said mystery man appears, sitting down next to Brendon and offering him an unopened can of Dr. Pepper. Brendon practically feels his face light up, ducking his head to hide it and laughing too loud at a joke Jon tells. Spencer scoots up close, and Brendon tells himself that it’s because of lack of space, which also makes it totally okay for him to casually lean back a bit so that their shoulders are brushing.

A couple of people come by after that, trying to get Brendon to join them back on the dance floor. Brendon just smiles and waves them off, leaning a little closer to Spencer and listening to people speak. He’s good where he is.

***

It’s late. Really late. The party has mostly died down and Brendon’s nearly asleep but too comfortable to move and haul his ass back to his and Ryan’s room. Which is probably just as well; chances that Ryan brought a girl back are, unfortunately, depressingly high.

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs from a little above Brendon’s head. “You still awake?”

Brendon yawns and cuddles closer, tightening the arm he has around Spencer’s waist. Spencer’s warm and—unlike most people at the party—doesn’t smell strongly of alcohol. A little sweet from second-hand smoke, maybe, but Brendon kind of likes that smell. He stretches out his right leg, which has ended up draped over Spencer’s, somehow, wishing he could take the bandages off and letting his tail out. It always feels the softest when Brendon is sleepy, better than any stuffed animal Brendon’s ever had to curl up with. Sometimes, it tickles Brendon’s nose when he sleeps, but it’s generally pretty awesome. Brendon bets Spencer would like it wound around him too—like a hug of three arms instead of two.

It really sucks that tails aren’t what people consider normal, Brendon thinks. He bets the world would be a way happier place if everyone had them.

***

In the end, his band finds out because Brendon decides to tell them. It takes a while. Brent is long gone by the time he finds the courage, replaced by Jon, and the four of them are far away from everyone else, up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

In retrospect, Brendon thinks it’s all Jon’s fault, unknowingly guilting Brendon into confessing by being all mopey and missing his cats, showing Brendon a million pictures of them on his computer and talking for hours about how soft their fur is.

(It’s possible that too much weed one night had something to do with it too, but Brendon chooses not to think about that part.)

Anyway, he tells them, and, as a result, spends almost a week in only boxers and a shirt with his three bandmates glued to his side, fascinated by the way his tail looks and moves and feels. They’re like parents with a new baby, and, while Brendon doesn’t mind as such (kind of likes lying on the couch and being petted if he’s honest) he wishes someone would say _something_ to him that isn’t related too his tail sometime soon.

“Can you move it in a figure eight?” Ryan asks, following the tip with his eyes when Brendon pushes off the couch.

Brendon sighs. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Ryan asks, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe if you practice?”

The look of genuine interest and delight on his face is the only thing that keeps Brendon from snapping. He leaves the room and climbs the stairs to the second floor, then the ladder that goes to the skylight and the roof. Spencer is out there, sitting on the roof tiles with his arms around his knees and his face tilted up into the afternoon sun.

He doesn’t look up as Brendon joins him, which Brendon appreciates right then. He sits down as well, putting his head on Spencer’s shoulder and letting out a long, slow breath. His tail flicks around a bit and then wraps itself snugly around Spencer’s waist. Brendon smiles and closes his eyes, turning his face towards the sun as well.

“You know, for the longest time, I thought you were gay,” Spencer says, out of the blue. Brendon looks up and blinks at him, because, um, okay?

“You always shied away whenever a girl started getting close,” Spencer continues. “And you were always really cuddly otherwise, so I just—pretty stupid, huh?”

“Um,” Brendon says eloquently, feeling himself blush a bit. “Spence, I—”

“I just wanted you to know,” Spencer says, “that I’m really sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way.”

“What?” Brendon says, pulling away a little so he can see Spencer’s face. “Why would you make me uncomfortable? You’re my Spencer.”

Spencer ducks his head and mumbles something under his breath. There’s a blush spreading up his neck. Brendon frowns.

“Huh?”

“I said,” Spencer says, shaking his head a little and letting out a nervous chuckle, “that, um—I’m not really _your_ Spencer, though.” He looks up at Brendon after he says it, eyes guarded and somehow bluer than Brendon’s always thought them to be. Spencer’s mouth twitches in a small, sad smile, and Brendon feels understanding fill him like a proverbial light going off above his head.

“You mean—you? _You?_ But—”

“Yeah, well,” Spencer says, blushing hotly and looking away again. “It’s your fault for being gorgeous.”

He starts moving away, turning like he means to get up. Brendon curls his tail tighter around him and pulls him back.

“Brendon...”

“Shut up,” Brendon says, feeling suddenly giddy from the warmth spreading slowly through him. “I wanna do this right.”

He slides his tail up to Spencer’s shoulders, poking him in the side of the head to make him turn his face as he leans in closer. Spencer realises what he’s planning a second before Brendon kisses him, and Brendon catches a shaky breath with his upper lip, smiling into the kiss as he pulls Spencer closer.

Spencer kisses him back.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] The Amazing Tail of Brendon Boyd Urie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/482996) by [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins)




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